No Dragons at Dawn
by Ice Bear
Summary: Someone in Cascade is killing little girls, and it's up to Jim to put a stop to it.


No Dragons at Dawn

Blair was already in bed, reading, when Jim got home. He called out a soft greeting, and settled back to listen to the sounds of his roommate making his 'rounds' as Blair called them – checking the doors and windows to make sure everything was locked up tight. He was surprised to hear the shower come on, but reasoned that his partner had been working for almost four days straight so he probably was planning on only making one trip up the stairs – the one required to sleep.

"Hey, Chief," Jim said hoarsely as he stopped by the open French doors, wearing only a towel.

Blair looked carefully at his partner – ashen face, dark circles under the eyes, stooped shoulders, and an awkward walk replacing the normal feline grace with which he moved – and smiled to hide his immediate concern. "Hey, yourself. It's good to see you."

"Missed you, Chief," Jim said as he sat on the bed for a moment.

"You alright, Jim?"

"No." It was uttered almost as a sigh, but Blair caught it, and reached out to grab hold of his shoulder. He could feel the tightness of the muscles, and the weariness of a body held together for too long without rest.

"What happened?"

"Found the girl, and three more her age, in the warehouse district…all dead. Some for months." He had turned so he was speaking to the wall, his voice distorted with defeat and weariness.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, man."

"We were so fucking close," and then the voice broke.

"No Jim, don't." He raged inwardly at the man beside him for accepting responsibility for such things. His partner was too ready, too willing, to take the mantle of blame for events over which he had no control.

"Sorry, Chief, I'm tired." Jim rolled to his feet, his back to the bed.

"You need to talk about this," you stubborn fool, he added to himself.

"Not tonight…please." The plea was clear.

"In the morning then, now get to bed," he finished with an order that resulted in the older man moving back toward the door.

"Noooooo. Oh God, nooooo."

Blair rolled over at the low moan, waking up as it came a second time. He was halfway up the stairs before he realized what he was doing. "Jim, Jim come on, man, wake up. It's alright. Come on." He urged, shaking the nearest shoulder gently.

"Blair?"

"Right here. You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, bad dream, go back to sleep." Jim listened as Blair settled back into his own bed, and waited until his breathing evened out before leaving the bed and heading downstairs to the balcony.

Jim was toying with a piece of toast by the time Blair was ready to start his day. He had coffee and eggs ready, and Blair smiled warmly at him across the table, as he settled down to eat.

"Chief? Would you have time to come to the crime scene with me? It's on the way to Rainer, and I want to take another look."

"Sure, I don't have a class til 10. You were there last night?"

"Yeah, look, I know it sounds silly, but I keep thinking there's something we're missing, and with you to ground me…" he stopped, hating how unsure he sounded.

"Not a problem, big guy. I'll be ready in 5."

At the abandoned warehouse, Jim led him past the police tape and into a series of small offices. They moved slowly through four rooms, Blair keeping a hand on his partner as he strained to find the elusive clue.In the last room, Jim froze.

"What is it?"

"Give me your Swiss army knife," he answered, as he looked at a section of flooring under a long abandoned desk. He knelt, and carefully worked up two floor boards before removing them. "Oh, god," he whispered, as he found the decomposed body of another child.

Silence reigned in the room for several minutes before Jim forced his attention away from the body. "Chief, call dispatch; tell them to get Dan and forensics back over here."

It was just past 2 when Blair entered the Major Crimes Bullpen, and noting the absence of his partner, went into the Captain's office. "Hey, Simon, you seen Jim?"

"Sandburg," he acknowledged, looking up from his computer. "Jim's in the conference room. He's been there since he got in this morning."

"Something wrong, Simon?"

"Cases involving children…I'd appreciate it if you'd see if you can get him to take a break."

"Yes, sir, sir!"

"Hey Jim, thought you might like some lunch," he said as he entered the large conference room. There were five files on the table, and two large chalk boards with a picture of each child and the key facts listed underneath.

"Chief," Jim acknowledged, but kept on staring at the board.

"Come on, man, I brought your favorite – Wonder burgers."

"Thanks, Junior. Look at these lists and tell me what you see," he ordered taking the small white bag and moving to the other side of the table.

Blair looked at the photos of the five young girls, and then started reviewing the list under each name. "There's a connection – a lot of connections," he said twenty minutes later.

"That's what I thought – but I'm not sure yet how to pull a suspect from those connections. I'm thinking we need to go back and question all the families again, see if anyone was working on their houses - plumbing, roofing, yard work that kind of thing. Because no one remembers seeing anyone who shouldn't have been there, which means…"

"It had to be someone they knew," Blair finished, smiling at the older man, "I think you're on to something, Jim."

"I hope so, Chief."

The entire Major Crimes roster met in the conference room six hours later; the photos of the girls grabbing all their attention. Each family had been reinterviewed, and the teams gave the senior detective their findings. He wrote down the new information under each name, and Blair kept a separate list of each duplicate finding.

"Lawn crew," Jim said out loud as they finished the fifth list. "It was someone on the lawn crew. Do we have names of the landscaping services?"

Emerson Lawns was the answer from each team, and that brought silence to the room. Simon looked out at the men and women seated around him carefully. "Okay, here's what we're not going to do – we are not going down there and tear the place apart," he held up a hand as several protests were made, "we're sending someone in to join the crew. We have to catch this guy in the act."

"Who?" Henri asked.

Simon's eyes swept the table again, "Ellison."

"I worked summers in high school and college doing landscaping."

"Good, go home, get some sleep, and be at Emerson's office at 7:00 tomorrow morning. Good work boys and girls, very good work."

"Jim, I don't know if this is such a good idea," Blair said as he joined him in the living room later that night.

"Don't think I can handle a little manual labor?"

The younger man sighed, "I have no question you can mow rings around anyone on that crew."

"Alright then, Einstein, what's the problem?"

"You want this guy too much."

Ellison came off the couch in one quick and graceful move, "Excuse me?" It was said softly, but the tone made the smaller man shiver.

"I just don't want you to get hurt." Blair said gently.

Jim didn't move, but his body language relaxed slightly. "Chief, if we don't get this guy, he's going to kill another little girl. I'm not going to let him do that."

"I know, I know. It's just that…this case has really gotten to you, and…and I need you to promise me that you'll be careful."

"I'm always careful, Chief."

"No, no, you're not. I'm serious, Jim." Blue eyes met blue.

"I'll be careful, I promise."

Jim walked into a small office, and the tiny bodies of dead girls were stacked floor to ceiling. He turned to leave, and the door swung shut behind him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, forgive me."

"Jim, come on. Jim!" Blair was shaking him, "Come on Jim, wake up."

"Oh god," he said as he flinched away from Blair, and sat up, head in his hands.

"Jim…"

"It's just a dream, Sandburg," his muffled voice announced, as he rose and headed down the stairs.

"Damn," Blair said following him down, but forced himself back to his own bed while Jim stood hunched over the balcony wall.

The undercover job left Jim with a healthy tan and a sleeker look. The first week, they did not work any jobs where there were young girls. He wasn't sure whether to be glad or not. He had his suspect after the second day, though. Henry Sanchez, a rugged six footer with a charming smile, managed to get in each of the houses they worked at least once the first day and generally two and three times. Jim was sure he was casing the house, seeking his next victim. A background check revealed little, but Simon put a tail on him anyway.

Sanchez also tried to cozy up to the new employee. "Hey Ellis, you want to maybe get a beer after work?" He asked on the third day.

"Sorry Sanchez, got plans." Jim was playing the loner – a role that did not require any acting skills - but it kept him in the background and allowed him the ability to observe the others.

"Come on now, what's wrong with two colleagues sharing a beer?" Sanchez put a possessive hand on Jim's chest as he spoke. Jim stopped himself from flinching, and stepped away from the touch.

"Don't," Jim warned the look in his eyes enough to back the other man up.

Blair hated the fact that despite the fresh air and hard work, Jim's sleep was interrupted every night. His partner downplayed it, but Blair could almost see the edges flaying.

On Saturday, toward the end of their workday, Sanchez brought Jim a cup of water from the back of the truck. It was 85 and humid, and Jim had been digging up rose bushes all afternoon. "Thanks," he said before putting the paper cup to his mouth. As soon as the water touched his lips he knew something was wrong, and he stopped himself from swallowing. Sanchez watched him with a knowing leer, and Jim's vision started to get fuzzy.

He went back to the rose bushes, and took out his cell. "Blair, I need you to come get me – now! Just pull up outside the house – don't get out of the car."

"Jim! What's wrong?"

"Been drugged…please, hurry." He threw up twice, and sat hunched on the ground when Sanchez came up to him again and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Ellis. Looks like you could use a hand. Why don't I drive you home?"

"Roommate's coming," Jim said trying to keep his voice steady despite the fact he was worried about losing consciousness.

"Well, why don't I…"

"There he is. See you Monday." Jim rose with a supreme effort and walked carefully down the driveway, placing each foot consciously in front of the other.He slid into the passenger side, and collapsed. "Hospital." He whispered before passing out.

Simon met them at the ER, and waited with Blair. "Are you sure he was drugged?" The Captain asked again.

"Yes, Simon, I'm sure. That is what he said when he called me."

"Doesn't make any sense – why would they drug him – unless they figured out he's a cop?"

"If they knew, he wouldn't have been able to walk off. There's something else going on. Jim's been real jumpy – doesn't want anyone near him…His idea of personal space – generally the size of Wyoming to begin with - has expanded exponentially since he went under."

Three hours later in a small exam room, the doctor announced that the detective had indeed been drugged with the latest version of the date rape drug.

"What the hell is going on, Jim?" Simon demanded, as he tried to digest the information they'd just been given.

"Sanchez, brought me a cup of water – it's in my backpack – I realized there was something wrong with it…he's been coming on to me since Tuesday."

Sunday morning, Blair brought breakfast upstairs, along with the paper, and the two men enjoyed a quiet meal. When they were done, he took the tray and put it on the bureau, and then sat down beside Jim.

"You ready to tell me what the hell's going on?" He asked softly.

"Sanchez has been trying to pick me up. Talking – he tried touching - thought I'd talked him out of it, until yesterday. I knew as soon as the water hit my lips it was bad…"

"He's the one you like for the girls?"

"Yeah, and I still do. He's a sick SOB…Blair, he keeps touching me…I…"

"It's alright, Jim, I understand. But if he likes little girls…"

"I'm thinking he may be more of an equal opportunity creep then we thought. We need to look at the company files, and see if any of the crew has disappeared."

Monday morning Jim was back on the job, and Tuesday, they started work on at a large house, set a ways back from the street. When they drove up, twin six year old girls were playing on the back deck. Jim had to fight down the urge to grab the girls and run. He watched and listened to Sanchez the entire day, which left him with a massive headache.

"Sanchez went into the house four times, Simon, he's casing it. We are scheduled to be there for three more days – replacing all the shrubbery and doing a back garden. My hunch is he'll move on the next to the last day, and then show up for the last day like nothing's wrong."

"That would fit the pattern we've been able to establish," the Captain said as he put his coffee cup back on the table. "How do you want to play it?"

"Put an electronic tracer on his car, and have enough backup in the neighborhood to shut him down if he gets them off the property. We'll try and stop him before he gets them to the car."

"Will he do it at the end of the day, Jim?" Blair asked.

"Late afternoon would be my bet. I'm guessing he'll have a doctor's appointment or something else lined up so he can slip off early."

The next night Jim woke screaming. Blair was out of his bed and up the stairs before he realized what was going on. Their eyes met, and Jim looked away. "Come on man, you need to tell me what the hell is going on. This has gone too far."

"I'm in the warehouse looking for the last little girl, Beth. I walk into the main office, and there are hundreds of bodies of little girls, stacked floor to ceiling in that room…the door locks behind me and I…then I wake up." Jim said this all to the floor as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Jim.."

"Don't psychoanalyze me tonight, please. I catch this guy, and the dream will go away."

"It's not that simple."

"It'll get me through this, and that's what I need right now."

Jim made sure he had the job of digging up the cedar hedge at the back of the house the next morning. It would take him all day to dig them up, and it gave him the best view of the back door. He kept his hearing focused between Sanchez and the heart beats of the twins in the house.

At lunch break, Jim took his sandwich and thermos and sat by one of the hedge rows he hadn't started on. He saw Sanchez drive off, but stayed where he was. Sanchez came back half an hour after the break was over, and Jim tuned in to hear his tale of woe to the foreman regarding his girlfriend's car and the fact he would have to leave at 2:45 pm. He relayed this information into the small mic on his shirt, and continued to dig.

Sanchez entered the house at 2:30 pm. "It's going down," Jim said as he moved to the house. He found Sanchez holding a gun on the nanny - an undercover policewoman - and the twins.

"Ellis? What the hell you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same, Sanchez?"

"The little ones, they love me, and I love them. I show them a good time. I would have shown you a good time, Ellis, but you weren't interested. Now get out."

"Drop the gun Sanchez, its over."

"Oh, I don't think so. I have three hostages here, and we are going out together. Or I'll kill them in front of you."

"Just like you killed Beth Nelson."

"No, she died slowly…very slowly."

"Drop it." Jim said again.

"Of course, I could take you – the two of us walk out of here and leave them behind. I don't need them if I have you. The sweet torture – you would scream and beg me for mercy before I'm finished."

"Fine, let them go, and I'll walk out with you."

"Jesus, Jim," Simon uttered as he listened to the conversation.

"Simon?"

"It'll be alright, Sandburg. Just stay here."

The policewoman moved the twins quickly out of the room, toward the back door, with Sanchez and Jim behind them. Sanchez held his gun to Jim's head. "Anyone tries to stop us and you're dead. It would be such a waste." He ran a hand over Jim's nipples, sending a wash of revulsion through the cop.

At the back door – Sanchez put an arm around Jim's neck and followed the twins out. "Let us get in the car and go – or he dies."

Once the twins had been removed from the line of fire, Jim lashed a leg behind his captor and took him to the ground, flinching as the gun went off. He rolled away and sat half hunched on the ground as his fellow officers took over.

"Jim…Jim, you okay?" Blair ran to his partner, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah." He leaned back against Blair's legs, his eyes following the twins as they were lad into a squad car and taken away.

The next morning, Blair paused to take in the sight of his Sentinel on the balcony as the first hints of morning graced the Great City. It made him smile, and that smile grew as he stepped up beside the bigger man and bumped him lightly with his shoulder. "Hey big guy."

"Morning Chief, hope I didn't wake you."

"Nope. Mother nature beat you to it, this time."

Jim nodded and leaned slightly against his friend. They watched as the ocean brightened from the sun's early light in companionable silence.

"You doing alright?"

"Working on it. Those little girls…"

"Were returned to their families because of you…the twins are safe in their beds, and he won't hurt anyone again,thanks to you."

"It's not that easy, Chief."

"I know, but the important things never are."

_All the children of Eve sleeping somewhere tonight  
Dream of days when the shadows are gone  
All the children of Eve say a prayer every night  
Praying there'll be no dragons at dawn  
_(The Children of Eve by Wildhorn, Murphy, and Eder)


End file.
